Smokeless (day 339)

Peacefully I close my eyelids
Lay my sweet caress into the pits unknown
Put my legs upon the ground beyond
Perhaps too long to play the game
Perhaps too short to feel the rest

At the wheel the cool breeze stirs
Something inside that’s closed it’s mouth
Grip tight, lay waste the fight
Perhaps the gun’s been oiled tonight;
Leave smokeless, devour your plight

Onwards and upwards we float with the light
Little traces of emptiness flickering like firelight
And I with my pens, you with your swords
Scrounging up regret like it’s found in the back
Perhaps then, alone and bitter, I will…

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